


By Heart

by Simara



Series: Idioms [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Pre-Slash, Self-Defense Lessons, Sexual Harassment, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7658545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simara/pseuds/Simara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some lessons have to be learned by heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Heart

**By Heart**

“Edward.” Jonathan nodded his acknowledgement. “I wouldn’t have stashed as many books on your bunk if I had known you’d return as quickly.”

“How considerate”, Edward grumbled, shoving the so called food on his plate around. “I sure missed your kind words and the comfortable interior décor. And the cooking, of course. What _is_ this supposed to be? It doesn’t even smell like food.”

“The details might surprise you”, Jonathan responded, taking a final sip of his peppermint tea. It was lukewarm; staff made sure not to let the inmates get their hands on boiling or caffeinated beverages. The sheer obscurity of the image made Edward sneer.  

“This is pathetic. I’m not supposed to be here.” Jonathan watched him carefully, his eyes – as always – a little too intense for Edward’s taste.

“You’d rather be at Black Gate then? Or better still- Belle Rêve?” Just as Edward was about to defend his position, a big hand put itself on his shoulder, making him freeze at the touch.

“Back already, Nygma? Didn’t you roam about with Dent? What, did he rat you out? Did he grow tired of your jabbering? Don’t worry, I’ll find something better for your mouth to do.” Edward turned his head very slowly. It was some former thug of Falcone, on of those guys who thought an insanity claim might get them out of trouble.

“Get your hand off me”, Edward said very calmly. Jonathan could see that every single muscle in his body was tense. The man grinned and bend forward, bringing his mouth close to Edward’s face. He was very tall and broad-shouldered, a mountain of a man hovering above Edward’s still rather boyish frame.

“Be nice, kid. You might need a new protector if Two-Face is through with you.” Jonathan didn’t speak up. He merely cleared his throat. The thug glanced at him. It took less than a second for Jon to twist the man’s fingers in a way that made him howl in pain. Jonathan continued by moving his hand slightly and the man sank to his knees, cursing. He was about to say something particularly nasty, as Jonathan lifted his knee and thus broke the man’s nose.

“I could have handled that myself!” Edward hissed, eyeing sight-ways, relieved to find that no-one paid much attention to the short-lived dispute. “How did you even do that – It should be physically impossible for someone as emaciated as you!”

“Is that so? What do _you_ know about self-defence?” Edward shrugged.

“Kick ‘em in the groin and run as fast as you can?” Jonathan’s lips twitched into a bitter smile.

“And how has that worked for you so far?”

“You know what? Fuck you.”

A guard did, finally, notice that one of the inmates was lying unconscious and dinner was cut short soon afterwards. Edward tried his best not to talk to his cellmate for the remainder of the day. Naturally, he failed. After about one and a half hours of sulking – an extraordinarily long period of time, going by his standards – he proclaimed:

“Violent Dancing is a stupid name.” Jonathan raised his eyes.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your fighting style. It’s got a stupid name.”

“So?”

“Would you teach it to me?” The words came before Edward could bite his tongue.

“Why would I do that?“ Edward could have listed a thousand reasons but he was too proud to do so and none of them were Crane’s business to begin with.

“I’ve got ways to repay you”, he offered vaguely. Crane raised a doubtful eyebrow.

“What, pray tell, could I possibly want from you?”

“Information. Contacts. Blowjob. Money. Choose your poison.”

“You insult me”, Jonathan said with a mock-smile. “I’m not that petty.”

“For once, I did not mean to”, Edward responded defensively. “But I won’t beg if you refuse. Forget I brought it up.”

“I accept.” Edward blinked in surprise.

“You do?”

“It’s not as though I’m terribly busy at the moment.”

“Well… right. Okay. And your payment of choice-“, Jonathan made a disapproving sound.

“You owe me a favour, Nygma. No more, no less.” Edward laughed. It had a nervous quality to it.

“The old fashioned way then? Suits me just as well. How much can you teach me?” Jonathan eyed him warily.

“Actual fighting – even my kind – takes years of practice. But I could show you a few practical tricks.”

“Sounds good to me.” He watched Jonathan with an expectant expression. “I’m ready if you are.” Jonathan’s lips twitched.

“I might hurt you.”

“I’ve had worse.” Jonathan nodded. He appreciated Edward’s attitude even though he knew that – in Edward’s case – it was more than just a euphemism.

“I’m going to show you what I did this morning. It will be least painful if you don’t fight back.”

“That sure sounds familiar”, Edward murmured. The half-hearted joke made something in Jonathan’s throat clench.

Edward was a quick-minded but impatient student and Jonathan caught himself being overly rough in order to shut the boy up more than once. Edward bore it though and muffled every pained sound with a stubborn kind of pride in his eyes.    

“I want to do it properly”, Edward complained after a while. “This exercise is too easy. I know how it works by now.” Jonathon raised an eyebrow.

“All right then.” He closed the distance between them, touching Edward’s chest with the flat of his hand. “Prove it.” Edward dropped his gaze, starring at Jonathan’s hand.

“It’s not that hard”, he emphasised, grasping the hand and starting to apply pressure to Jonathan’s wrist. Unfortunately, Jonathan did not intend to play fair. He followed Edward’s lead for just a split second before punching Edward in the ribs, causing him to let Jonathan’s hand slip from his hold. The next blow hit slightly above Edward’s knee, knocking him clean to the ground. Before Edward could process what was going on, Jonathan had straddled him, digging an elbow into Edward’s solar plexus and putting just enough weight onto the right spots to pin him to the ground.

“Arrogance is your undoing”, he lectured, not even slightly out of breath. “Telling yourself that you’re better than everyone else might keep your mind together but in a fight it’s a greater weakness than any lack of muscle.” Anger and hurt pride burned in Edward’s eyes.

“You cheated!”

“No, I won. You need to match your opponent’s movements and use their strength against them. Don’t trust your eyes, don’t play make believe. This”, He dug his elbow deeper into Edward’s chest, making him wince. “Isn’t about force. It’s about patience.”

“I get it”, Edward hissed. “I’ll try again. Let go of me.”

“No.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Edward.” Jonathan lowered his face till their lips almost touched. Edward shivered.

“Get your hands off me”, Edward snarled back at him. His throat felt too tight. Jonathan smiled ever so slightly. His breath still smelled of peppermint tea.

“Make me.” A dull pain was spreading through Edward’s shoulder. His fingertips felt as though they were about to go numb. He bit his lip in anger. Jonathan had to admit that it looked rather beautiful.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Jonathan clicked his tongue in disapproval. It sounded awfully obscene to Edward, who moved his head to the side in order to avoid Jonathan’s eyes.

“You didn’t listen at all, did you? Think.” All Edward could think about was that Jonathan Crane was way too deep into his personal space and that he wasn’t sure if that scared or aroused him.

“I-“

“Think!” Jonathan insisted. “Don’t let yourselves be distracted.”

“I’m not distracted!” His cheeks felt a little too warm. “And I’m not afraid either, no matter how hard you try to make me uncomfortable.” Jonathan started to chuckle.

“Of course not. Tell me, Edward”, his voice shifted somewhere between the words and Edward regretted to have brought fear into this at all. “How _does_ it make you feel? To be this vulnerable? To know that I could do as I please? All I’d have to do…” He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he twisted Edward’s arm a little. Instinctively, Edward moved as Jon had intended and made enough room for Jonathan to force his legs apart. Jonathan didn’t try to touch Edward though. He wanted to scare Edward, punish him for his arrogance and push him towards the right solution but there were lines he would never cross. “Your helpless, Edward. At my mercy.”

“Jonathan, please-”

“This is what you wanted me to teach you, isn’t it? How to take back control.”

“You’re a sadistic son of a-“ Something about Jonathan’s expression made him stop mid-sentence. It wouldn’t help to insult the man currently cutting off his right arms blood circulation… That’s it! Edward clenched his teeth, shifting despite the pain. All it took was one calculated motion to use the pressure Jonathan applied to his shoulder to break the man’s balance and push him off, rolling on top of him in turn.

“Ha!” Triumph made him ignore his aching muscle as well as the fact that Jonathan had given him that opportunity on purpose. “I told you I’ve got this!”

“Well done”, Jonathan said, real pride in his voice. “Very well done, Edward.” The way he said it made Edward feel a flash of warmth. He was breathless, still sitting on top of Crane and couldn’t suppress a grin.

“That’s neat.” He said, pushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Does it always work as well?”

“There are ways to counter it”, Jonathan warned. “But in most cases, it should give you at least enough room to get away.”

“Let’s hope I won’t need to put it to the test”, Edward responded cheerfully.

“Make sure to put all of your weight behind it if you use it against someone of Dent’s stature.” A dark shadow fell over Edward’s expression.

“I won’t have to.” He got up without offering Jonathan a hand.

“You have the right to, you know? He doesn’t hold any special claims to your body.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need a lecture, old man.” Jonathan shook his head grimly.

“What a waste of brain”, he muttered. Edward felt a pang of nausea in his stomach. He curled up in his bed, face turned towards the wall, and actually managed to not talk to Crane till the morning.

They caught former District Attorney Harvey Dent a few days after his accomplice Edward Nygma. Despite the rumours that had spread when they hadn’t been arrested together, their… working relationship didn’t seem to have been tarnished by whatever had happened. Jonathan tried his best to enjoy not being Edward’s main conversational partner for a while but he still felt contempt for the way Dent treated the boy whenever his mood swung more towards his Two-Face persona.

One evening, Jonathan had taken a copy of _Finnegans Wake_ to the rec-room and was deeply engrossed with the novel when a voice pulled him back to reality.

“Crane.” Jonathan looked up, displeased.

“Dent.”

“A word?”

“Not two?”

“Carefull, Crane. Don’t try my patience.” Jonathan closed his book.

“How can I help you?” Most of the other inmates had already left the rec-room.

“I take it you taught Eddie a trick or two.” A deep-purple bruise spread across Harvey’s cheekbone. Jonathan suppressed the urge to comment on it.

“May have. He tends to get threatened a lot. It annoyed me.”

“Sure. Whatever”, Harvey said, waving his hand. Something in his voice wasn’t at ease and Jonathan picked up on it within a second.

“You didn’t come to beat me up”, he said, almost surprised. Harvey chuckled.

“No, we didn’t. Just… take care of the kid, will you? You do him good. He’ll need it.” Jonathan furrowed his brow. A realisation struck him.

“You’re going to leave him.” Harvey flipped his coin - staff had stopped trying to take it from him a long time ago - but didn’t bother to show Jonathan which side it had landed on.

“Let’s just say that I’ve made an overdue decision.”

“You seem to think that what you’re about to do is responsible behaviour.” Harvey’s face tensed.

“It is.” Jonathan shook his head, smiling sardonically.

“No, but you apparently want to believe that it is. I’m going to offer you my professional opinion; do with that what you will: You’re running from yourself. You could choose recovery but the prospect scares you too much to even consider it.” Harvey clenched his fist but Jonathan continued none the less. “You might think that you’re decision was made out of – what, love? – but it _is_ fuelled by fear.”

“So? You’d rather have me beat him up every now and then?” Jonathan’s eyes hardened.

“One day, you will look back and regret that you’ve ever hurt the boy. You’ll curse yourself and realise that he was too good for the likes of you.” Harvey scoffed. His smile was bitter.

“You’re mistaken, Professor”, he turned his back and headed towards the rec-room door. “I already do.” 


End file.
